Drowning
by LittleApril
Summary: Her last Reaping Day. Cordelia Wellwood has survived six of District 4's Reaping Days. As the 74th Annual Hunger Games looms ahead, a storm is brewing. And her fight for survival rises with each darkening raincloud. OC/Cato Cato/Other Tribute
1. Chapter 1

**Drowning** by **Little April**

A cold sea breeze ripples through the air. Waves break along the shore, crashing and curling in unison. Droplets of rain threaten to fall as heavy storm clouds roll through the blackening skyline. From my place along the shoreline, I watch in silence as the water laps around my feet. My toes dig into the wet sand. A hand rakes through my tangled tresses, each twisted curl darkened with shadows from what little light bleeds through the clouds.

A storm is brewing.

And as I glance back at the waves that tumble to a shuddering stop, I let out the breath I had been trying to swallow.

_Another Reaping Day in District 4. Another promised death._

_And one last chance to slip through Fleur Rosehearty's fingertips as she declares the fate of two of our district's children._


	2. Chapter 2

**Drowning by LittleApril**

**Chapter Two**

Home is a small building a mile south of the shoreline; its exterior is littered with thriving plant-life, a variety of blossoms in reds, pinks and greens. My father, a retired fisherman, sits at his desk. His wrinkled fingers mark the mahogany of the furniture with light taps. As I enter the room, the tapping stops. All is silent save for the distant sounds of the water surrounding our village. He looks up, offering me one of his tired smiles.

"Cordelia," he says, his voice as quiet and as tired as it has always been since my mother's death all those years ago. His smile wavers as he lays his hand on my shoulder, his grip tight and one of affection. His eyes drift to the old grandfather clock in the corner of his study - a gift from the Capitol. My father, Isaac Wellwood, Victor of the 52nd Hunger Games.

And I, Cordelia Wellwood, the child my parents never wanted. A _mistake_. Each had vowed to never bring a child into this world of games and death.

"You're late," he murmurs now, stepping away. His hand falls to his side and he lets out a heavy breath.

I nod. A small smile graces my lips. "I just wanted to look at the shoreline one last time-," but my words fall flat as his sharp eyes land on my form. He glowers at me and stalks from the room. Since I was small, he has done everything in his power to keep my name from falling into the hands of our district's representative. "I'm sorry," I mutter, but it's not use. He's already left the house and I watch him go. I watch him walk down the path from our house to the entrance of the Victor's Village, away from my troubles and last wishes.

_One last year,_ I think as I dress myself for the reaping. _This is the last year._

* * *

I take my place in the sea of people surrounding the Justice Building, watching as children and their families clutch their chests and hands in fear. From my place in the crowds, I watch as my father stands on the stage, his face lined with age and a grim frown. Beside me, children cry into their sleeves and shake in fright. District 4 is no typical Career District. We are not trained for the games. We're trained to swim, to fish, to hunt, to _live. _

The thump of the microphone startles the entirety of the district into silence. I keep my arms by my sides as Fleur Rosehearty takes to the stage, her beautiful ocean blue hair curling in the sea breeze. Beside her, to the left of my father, stand the other victors: Mags, Finnick, and Annie.

"Welcome," greets Fleur, her high pitch echoing around the town square, "to another glorious year. And what a day for it! The 74th Annual Hunger Games!" Her smile is disconcerting.

We watch the video the Capitol has prepared for us. We watch as the slaughter appears on screen and the screams die off into the background noise of the tape. We watch as President Snow and his team remind us of our sins and our repayment.

"Shall we begin?"

_Yes,_ I think. My fingernails dig into the palms of my hands. _Let's get on with it._

"Ladies first…"

My eyes lock with Finnick. The twenty-four-year-old Victor and I have always been close. We live side-by-side in the Victor's Village. I've known the man since my eighth birthday. He smiles at me. I smile back. His lips move and I smile back in response. _Your last year,_ he mouths. I close my eyes. _Please_, I plead.

_"Cordelia Wellwood."_

My name echoes around the town square.

"Would you believe it?" trills Fleur, her smile as wide as ever. "A Victor's child! How exciting!"

My eyes roam the stage as I step forward. My steps are slow. A frown mars Finnick's attractive features. Annie is staring at me, her eyes wide and unbelieving. Mags has her head bowed. And from the corner of my eye, I find my father sloping off the stage and away from my pre-determined fate.

"You're OK," Finnick murmurs in my ear as I take my place beside him and Fleur. "You're OK."

But his words are drowned out by the deafening thump of my racing heartbeat and of the blood rushing around in my head.


End file.
